


Unsteady

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 03:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7388263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver and Felicity have their first baby, but soon after Felicity gives birth, she realizes that something is not quite right. </p>
<p>*This story is about Felicity's struggle with Postpartum Depression, and Oliver's struggle to help her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsteady

“Oliver!”

Oliver’s head snapped up at the sound of her shrill voice, "Felicity!?“ He dropped the pan and spatula he’d been making breakfast with and ran for the stairs, feeling like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him as soon as he heard her yell his name.

"Hurry!”

Oliver hopped the railing at the top of the stairs and stumbled into their son or daughter's room. “Baby, are you okay?” He asked, breathless from his heart dropping into his stomach. Felicity stood in front of the body-length mirror. She looked at him through the reflection.

“Look!”

She pulled up her shirt and placed her palm over her stomach. Oliver sighed, trying to calm himself down now that he knew she was okay. "Felicity. You’ve been pregnant for a month, you’re not showing yet.“

"Yes I am, Oliver. Don’t you see the bump!? I think it’s a boy.”

He chuckled, “There is no way that you could know the gender based on a bump that you barely have.”

“So you see it?” She asked, smiling widely as she turned around, pushing her stomach out.

“No,” he laughed again, refusing to admit it no matter how adorable she was. “I can’t wait until we can see that little baby growing. But that day isn’t today.”

Felicity frowned. “It’s going to be a boy.”

Oliver cocked his head to the side at how confident she sounded. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I can feel it.” She shrugged, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his middle. “And he’s going to be just as strong, and handsome, and brave as his daddy.”

* * *

“Felicity, Oliver, meet your baby girl!”

Felicity’s head swiveled around, trying to see through the faceless nurses and their creepy gloved hands and face masks. She could hear her daughter crying. Her hand was clutched between Oliver’s as they waited for the nurse to hold up their baby. She heard Oliver chuckle, and she knew exactly why.

She would have cared more if she wasn’t so foggy from pain killers. She’d sworn for eight months that they were having a boy. She’d felt so sure of it that she’d spent those months insisting that Oliver decorate the nursery for a boy. Luckily, since they both didn’t want to know the sex for sure, Oliver had refused.

“Is she okay?” Felicity mumbled, trying to fight how tired she felt.

“She’s okay. She’s beautiful.” The nurse held the baby up, and Felicity’s eyes fell on her face for the first time.

“Wow,” Felicity sighed before the dark spots she’d been seeing swallowed her vision.

The next time she woke up, she was lying in a hospital bed. It was dark outside, but there was a lamp on in the corner of the room. In the dim light, she could see Oliver sitting in the rocking chair. He was humming softly as he rocked a little bundle of blankets. She shifted, sitting up. “What happened?”

 Oliver looked up at her, a beaming smile breaking over his face like she’d never seen. He stood up instantly and brought the bundle to her. “You passed out for a while…gave me quite the scare…but they said you’re stable now and everything looks perfect.” He glanced down at his arms, “Especially her. You want to meet your daughter?” He asked. As he got closer, she could see some tensions in him; a worry in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed from across the room and the bags under his eyes.

Felicity could only nod. Oliver placed her daughter in her arms and Felicity looked down. The baby was wrapped tightly in a blanket, and Felicity pushed the fabric away from her face so she could see her better.

She was beautiful. She had long eyelashes and the cutest little mouth. And an adorable button nose that twitched as she dreamed. Felicity had been dreaming of meeting her baby for so long, she thought she knew exactly how it would feel to lay eyes on him…or her, apparently, for the first time. But something didn’t feel right. “Oliver…” Felicity started slowly, panic rising in her chest and in her voice as she looked down at the child in worry.

“What is it, Felicity?” He asked, pushing her hair away from her face and running his fingers across her forehead, noting that she was a little too warm.

“This isn’t my baby.”

Oliver froze. “What?”

Felicity stared up at him, eyes wide. “This isn’t my baby.” She said, her voice louder, clear and sure. “Something is wrong. This isn’t…this isn’t my daughter.”

Oliver stared at her, leaning over the bed, “Felicity, I haven’t taken my eyes off of her since your C-Section. The nurse stood right next to me and held her while the doctors took care of you. And then I helped give her a bath and we’ve been sitting in that chair waiting for you to wake up.” He was so confused and scared at what she’d said, that if everything he assured her of hadn’t been true, he would have believed her. She sounded so sure about it. Felicity looked at him for another moment before looking down at the baby, her eyebrows pushing together in concentration. "I’ve been with her since she was born, just eight hours ago. This is your daughter, Felicity.“ He assured her.

Felicity shook her head as she stared at the child in her arms, tears filling her eyes. Oliver moved again, running his fingers over her hair, her face. "Hey, baby it’s okay. You’ve had a long and hard day. You’re tired, you’re still under the influence of some pretty serious drugs. It’s okay.”

“Take her,” Felicity choked out, lifting the baby carefully towards Oliver as she tried to hold in deeper cries. She didn’t want to wake up the sleeping baby, so she covered her mouth as sobs escaped her, not able to look at Oliver. She felt embarrassed, and ashamed, and all she could do was look at that innocent little thing and try to feel all of those emotions that she knew she should have.

She expected magic. Isn’t that what happened when a mother saw her child for the first time? She expected love for the baby to overwhelm her and know that she would never feel the same. Everything that she’d ever seen or read about childbirth seemed to agree with that feeling, so why didn’t she feel it? Shouldn’t her heart feel like it was expanding, making room for that little girl and creating a love inside of her that wouldn’t ever die? But she felt nothing like that. All she felt was embarrassment and confusion.

* * *

She couldn’t stop tossing and turning. They took their baby home without a name. Oliver insisted that they would name her as soon as Felicity was feeling better, but she only felt guilty. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t recognized her own baby, that she’d thought she wasn’t hers… _still_ kind of thought that, because something just felt wrong inside of her and she couldn’t place it. The guilt inside of her was easily recognized though, and unending, especially when Oliver told her that everything was okay. It wasn’t okay to her.

She got out of bed and wandered over to where her daughter slept, hovering over the bassinet like she did nearly every night, watching the baby sleep.

Felicity felt like she had been doing everything that a new mother should; she got up for feedings and diaper changes in the middle of the night. She played with her and swaddled her, picked her up when she cried. But something just felt very wrong in the core of her soul. She didn’t feel a connection to the baby, and panic rose in her chest every time she had to touch her; afraid that her daughter would feel…unloved. That was a hard thought to deal with.

As she looked at the peaceful baby, Felicity tried to clear her mind, assuring herself that she was just overwhelmed, of course she loved her baby. She’d had a scary and heartbreaking birth, and maybe the C-Section attributed to her feelings of disconnect. Felicity racked her brain constantly, trying to find the reason, an answer for the way she felt.

She was trying so hard to hide it. She didn’t want Oliver to know that she was so sad, anxious because she didn’t feel like she could handle being a mom, and then guilty because she knew that she should be better.

Their little girl was home for a week, and Felicity sidestepped every conversation about naming her. She didn’t want to talk about that when she felt like this. She sighed, leaning over and resting her chin on her hands on the edge of the bassinet. “Do you know?” She asked quietly, “Can you see that I’m not made for this?” Felicity sighed as her daughter’s nose twitched in her sleep. Her nose always wiggled as she dreamed, and Felicity knew that it was something that should entertain her, one of those things about her baby that should make her heart swell. But Oliver had been the one to point out the cute little detail, and he seemed completely charmed by it. She hadn’t even noticed, much less cared. "You deserve so much better…“ She mumbled.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she stood there, but Oliver snapped her out of it when he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Hi,” She breathed.

“Hey,” He answered, his voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing? You okay?” He said against her ear.

Felicity didn’t want to answer. He always knew when she was lying. “Lydia?”

Oliver hesitated a moment, and then she could feel his smile in the crook of her neck, and it made her feel the slightest bit better. “Lydia."  He sighed. Lydia had been on their list for girls, which was a short one since she had been so convinced they were having a boy. They couldn’t narrow either list down enough to decide while she was pregnant, so they agreed to until they met her. She had imagined seeing her baby for the first time and just _knowing_ what to call him, or her.

Felicity nodded to herself, finally feeling like she’d done something good for her daughter. "Lydia Laurel Queen.”

Oliver sighed, kissing just below her ear. They hadn’t discussed middle names at all, since they couldn’t even choose a first one. But Felicity always had it in her head that if, in the slight chance it was girl, she wanted to name her after Laurel.

He turned Felicity around, meeting her eyes briefly before pressing his lips to hers. She saw the emotion in his eyes, but she didn’t feel it back. He loved her, she knew that. But she couldn’t feel anything. Her heart always skipped a little when he kissed her, _always_. But not that kiss. Felicity kissed him back with a bit more urgency than he had kissed her, desperate to feel that burn of desire she always seemed to get when he kissed her. His tongue ran over the seam of her lips, and she opened her mouth, gliding her tongue against his. They hadn’t made love in months, she couldn’t have felt in less of a mood for sex at the end of her pregnancy, and ever since Lydia had been born…they’d both been busy and distracted; not to mention the new scar on her stomach that was painfully still healing. Oliver was shirtless, and her hands were all over him. He pulled back with an excited breath, “Are you sure?” He asked, “You’re sure that you’re okay?”

Kissing him, touching him, and being with him came naturally to her, but she was confused. That kiss hadn’t left her breathless like it did to him. Felicity stepped back, feeling a knot in her stomach. “I think I should feed the baby- Lydia- actually.” She turned on him, looking back down at her daughter.

Oliver shifted, “We probably shouldn’t wake her, Felicity.” He said it gently. Just like every other parenting tip that he’d had to remind her of this week; the right way to wrap her up in a blanket, the correct temperature of a bottle, the way she preferred to be held while she was rocked. When Felicity sighed without answering, Oliver came up behind her again. “Hey, it’s okay, Felicity. Lydia loves you.” She had read all of the same parenting books that he did, but apparently it didn’t click with her as naturally as it did for him.

“Oliver…”

“I’ll get a bottle ready when she wakes up. Maybe we can take her over to visit your mom and Lance this afternoon. Maybe even Dig’s…” When she just stared at him, words started spilling out of him, “Roy’s in town, too. Thea texted and asked if they could make a reservation for some baby time,” He chuckled, “And I ran into Curtis yesterday, he said he’d love to meet her. I’m sure everyone will want to see her again, meet her officially…as Lydia Laurel Queen.”

“No!” Felicity snapped. The first thing that popped into her head was that her mother would see how awful she was with Lydia. But then the list of people, the idea of having everyone she knew and loved finding out that she was a fraud of a mother. It made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

Oliver’s arms froze, “What is it?” He asked, brushing her hair from her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her skin, “Felicity, you’ve been through a lot this past week, it’s okay if you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed, or…” He trailed off, probably hoping that she would fill in the blank, tell him what she was feeling. But how could she look him in the eyes and say ‘nothing Oliver, I feel nothing.’

“Stop making excuses for me.” She snapped instead.

“I’m not making excuses for you, Felicity, I’m trying to help you. I have been ever since we got home, but you won’t let me in. I know you, and I know that something is bothering you, so why won’t you tell me what it is? Talk to me.” He was pleading. But it had no effect.

Felicity shook her head without looking at him, and closed her eyes when he sighed, hearing his footsteps walk away from her.

* * *

Oliver couldn’t figure out what was going on with her to save his life. She’d never looked more tired than she did when she woke up in the hospital, and to his dismay, that vacant stare and pale face didn’t brighten at all since they’d taken Lydia home. It was like Felicity was afraid to make a mistake with their daughter. They hadn’t talked about her moment of confusion, when she thought that Lydia wasn’t hers. Oliver and the doctors had chocked it up to the extreme exhaustion, but now…

He didn’t know what to do to help her. He didn’t know who to talk to or even what to say. He was worried that if he reached out to someone, a doctor or her mother, that Felicity would hate him. He could tell that she was embarrassed about what happened at the hospital, and it had shattered her confidence as a mother. He’d been doing everything he could think of to build her confidence up, but she moved through the motions of their day like a zombie. This was supposed to be the happiest time of their lives together, taking home their first newborn for the first time, but Felicity just seemed to be doing everything on autopilot.

She didn’t feel up to taking Lydia on the new baby tour of the city with him, so Oliver had gone alone. From Auntie Thea’s, to Uncle Diggle’s, to Grammy Donna’s, Lydia was exhausted and snoring in the backseat. She’d met and charmed a lot of people today. Oliver smiled as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror on the way back to the loft. She already had such a personality. She took a liking to Roy, Dig, Curtis and Lance (all of the boys got special little smiles from her), and sucked up to her grandmother. They were all putty in her hands already.

Her bond with Thea was already the strongest though, Oliver hadn’t seen anything like it. Lydia lit up at the sight of her, responding to Thea’s excited coos immediately and making noises that he hadn’t heard yet, moving her arms and her legs. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Thea, staring up at her all afternoon and fussing if Thea wasn’t holding her. And his sister had looked so smug, pointing out that she was clearly Lydia’s favorite. But it was obvious to him that as much as Lydia had fallen in love with Thea, the feeling was mutual.

He took his time getting Lydia out of the car and up the stairs. He dropped the diaper bag and keys on the kitchen counter and headed up to the bedroom with her car seat, prepared to move her right from the seat to the bassinet in their bedroom. He opened his mouth to call to Felicity and then clamped his mouth shut, his teeth clanking together, as he glanced down at the little sleeping girl. “Right,” he chuckled to himself. “I know better than to wake _you_ up from a nap, you little monster.”

He frowned when he entered the bedroom and realized that Felicity wasn’t in there, either. As he slowly and carefully removed his daughter from the car seat and laid her in the bassinet, he heard the sounds of the shower. He glanced down at Lydia one more time before crossing the hall to the bathroom and knocking lightly on the door. “Felicity?” He asked.

He could clearly hear the water running, but that was the only sound. Oliver’s instincts put a knot in his stomach before his brain could catch up. She’d been so different lately…that he felt a surge of panic when she didn’t answer him. He knocked a little louder. “Baby?”

No answer again.

He took a breath, trying to calm down and convince himself that maybe she just couldn’t hear him. But his instincts were telling him that something was very wrong, and he wasn’t about to ignore that. He knocked again, trying the doorknob and finding it locked. All thoughts of waking the baby up were gone as his heart jumped into his throat and he pounded on the door. “Felicity!” He yelled, an image of her lying cold and still on the bathroom floor jumping to his mind. What the hell had he been thinking, leaving her alone all day when he knew that something was wrong?

No answer still.

He didn’t care anymore if he was overreacting. Maybe she was fine and would be pissed at him for what he was about to do. It didn’t matter. Oliver took another deep breath and did the only thing he could do. He kicked in the door and entered the bathroom. His eyes darted straight to the tub. Felicity was there, her legs curled up to her chest as she sat on the floor of the bathtub, the water from the shower beating against her back. Her head was resting on her knees, and he saw that he eyes were open. He couldn’t move, holding his breath for what felt like forever until he saw her back rise and fall with a breath of her own. Okay, he relaxed slightly, taking a step towards her. Oliver hadn’t noticed it at first, but the room was freezing, he had goose bumps, and realized that the AC was blasting.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, “Felicity,” he said, brushing her wet hair away from her face. Her eyes lolled slightly at his touch, but it was like she couldn’t see him…didn’t even hear him. Her hair and her skin were ice cold, her lips blue…he held his hand under the stream of the shower for all of two seconds before the freezing water had him recoiling away.

He quickly reached both of his arms into the stream and pulled her out, tucking her against him as he stood up. He grabbed a towel from the shelf and carried her straight into the bedroom. He set her on the bed and wrapped the towel tightly around her. It didn’t cover all of her, so he brought the comforter up and wrapped that around her too. As he did this, he watched her eyes fall closed.

“No,” He said, shaking her shoulders, “Don’t close your eyes on me. Felicity. Felicity, open your eyes. Look at me, baby, _look_ at me.” If he wasn’t holding her in an upright position, she wouldn’t be sitting up. Her eyes opened slowly, and she glanced at him, recognition crossing her face for a brief moment before her eyes glazed over. But she kept them open. “Hold on,” he said, gently leaning her back so she laid on the bed, her head resting on the pillows. He crossed the room to the thermostat in two steps and blasted the heat on high, closing the bedroom door so the heat would stay in. He crawled onto the bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her.

Then she started shaking and he could hear her teeth chattering. “Damn it, Felicity,” he sighed, panic rising again. This was more than just being a little chilly, and fear crept into his chest as he wondered if he needed to take her to the hospital, trying to remember the facts he’d learned about hypothermia.

The towels and blankets weren’t warming her up…who knows how long she’d been sitting in that freezing room under that icy water. She was so cold that her body couldn’t create any heat to warm her. There was no warmth to radiate inside the blankets that she was covered with. “Damn it,” he choked out again. He’d seen people die from similar conditions.

He quickly pulled off his shirt and threw it on the floor. He removed her fortress of blankets as she laid on her back, very carefully laying his body on top of hers before wrapping the blanket back around them. With his arms on either side of her head, he fussed over her hair, pushing it all back so that it soaked the pillow above her head, not letting any of it touch her skin. She was still shivering, but he could feel her eyes on his face. “Oh, baby,” he mumbled as he shifted his gaze away from her hair to meet her eyes.

Felicity looked so sad. Her eyes began to fill with tears, and she blinked, but she didn’t look away. He was doing his best not to flinch at how cold her skin was. He pressed his chest a little harder to hers, tightened his arms. He could feel the blanket absorbing his body heat, hopefully warming her up quicker, and he pulled it tighter around them. She still looked a scary shade of white, but he could feel that her shivering was slowing beneath him. “Felicity,” he whispered, relief flooding him as he realized that she was going to be okay. His forehead rested against hers, and he ignored the unnerving feeling of her skin against his.

They always liked to joke about her perpetually cold toes, especially when she pressed them to his legs in bed for warmth, but this was a different level. He’d never felt skin so cold…at least not anyone who was alive.

With his forehead pressed to hers and his eyes closed, the image of her in the tub flooded his mind. He’d been too distracted by the situation to focus on any details, but he could see it in his head now. Her skin had been so pale that he could see the faint, blue veins in her back. He was sure that he would never get the sight of her face in that tub out of his head. She had looked…dead. Her eyes unblinking and vacant, dark circles under them and that unnatural color of her lips. He opened his eyes and glanced down at her still purple lips. He sighed deeply, pressing his lips to hers. Felicity didn’t move beneath him. Actually, he realized, she hadn’t moved a muscle since he found her. He stayed still too, just resting his lips on hers in the hopes of getting them back to the beautiful pink color that he adored. “I love you, Felicity.” He mumbled, pulling back to see her eyes again.Tears fell down her face. “Felicity…” he began, not sure what he’d intended to say but knowing that he needed to say something.

“I need help, Oliver,” She said, her voice so quiet and so hoarse. Oliver just nodded, knowing now that this was beyond something that he could save her from himself.

* * *

The next day, she had been officially told that she was suffering from postpartum depression. Her doctor assured her, as Oliver’s brow furrowed and he reached for her hand, that it was quite common in new mothers and that she would be okay. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

If she was being honest with herself, she’d been relieved to hear the news. It gave her an answer; something to call the way that she had been feeling. She wasn’t crazy, she wasn’t going to feel broken forever. But she realized now that she was sick, and that terrified her. She had a name for her demon though, postpartum depression, and that meant she could beat it. It was a bittersweet feeling. After talking to the doctor, Felicity started on medications and was told to relax until she felt ready to get into contact with a therapist that he recommended. He gave her all kinds of pamphlets and articles about her condition, as well as multiple doctors she could see if she didn’t like his recommendation, as well as support groups that she should think about attending. It was a little overwhelming, but Felicity swallowed all of that information, pushing it to the back of her mind to think about later.

She and Oliver spent two weeks in mostly silence after that. She knew that her stunt in the bathtub had shaken him to his core; but she didn’t know how to explain it.

The whole experience had been hazy, and she couldn’t remember most of it. She’d gone to take a shower, and she vaguely remembered feeling hot and putting the AC on blast before turning the water as cold as it could go. She couldn’t even remember what had being going through her head at the time, and it still didn’t feel like it was her that had done it. Her head had just gotten cloudy and she zoned out, completely checked out of her own body. When everything went numb, she couldn’t find the motivation to get up. It had felt like she wasn’t really there. The ice cold room barely bothered her and she stopped being able to hear the sound of the water. She didn’t snap out of it, didn’t come back to her body until she was shaking uncontrollably while Oliver pressed his bare chest to hers.

She used the grace period of those two weeks to come to terms with what postpartum depression meant for her; her life, her daughter and her husband. She had a lot of questions, but she knew that she was the only one who could answer most of them. Each day that passed, she grew more and more uncomfortable with what had happened that day in the shower. She never wanted to feel like that again. She was in her own head for most of those two weeks, but she did her best to be open with Oliver. They talked about how she had been feeling, about her condition, and about Lydia. Oliver didn’t breach the shower incident, and she worried as to why. It wasn’t like him; she expected him to be upset, hurt, maybe even a little angry with her.

During those two weeks, she gained acceptance; both from herself, from Oliver, and even Lydia seemed to be happier around her. Felicity knew that she was probably just happier because Felicity’s mood was different, she was trying now. But she still took the small victory. Lydia wasn’t warmed up to her yet though, and the feeling was mutual. They were both still afraid, but they also were both fighting. If Lydia was crying, Felicity knew that she preferred Oliver, but she did her best to settle down when Felicity picked her up and not give her a hard time.

One night, Felicity sat on the couch in front of a fire, wrapped up in a blanket. Oliver had taken Lydia to Diggle’s for dinner, but ordered in for her. Of course, he had invited her to go, but she wasn’t ready to see everyone. He was enough. And her mother, since that was inevitable when she told her what was going on. It was the first time she was being left alone again since everything happened, and she could tell that he was uneasy about it. She also knew that he was trying to let it go, even though he was only gone for a couple of hours and had called multiple times to check on her. It was a step forward. When Oliver came back, he sprawled out on the floor with Lydia, telling Felicity stories about the night. Felicity slid off the couch and onto the floor beside him as he spoke, listening intently.

He had paused, watching her as she lifted Lydia from the floor and cradled her in her arms. She could tell that he was trying not to make a big deal out of it, but it was the first time that Felicity had taken the initiative to hold her. Not because Oliver had thrusted Lydia into her arms before running to get a bottle, or because she’d been screaming her head off and Felicity had to pick her up to make it stop. Felicity wasn’t really sure why either, but as Oliver talked, she just got the urge to hold her daughter. A silent moment passed between them as she looked into his eyes. And, as if she didn’t already know, she had the most perfect husband, because he silently shook his head with a smile before continuing his story, not getting worked up about it and making her uncomfortable. Add that to the list of reasons she loved him.

She realized then that she was feeling love. For nearly a month, she really hadn’t. She knew she loved her friends and family, but she had been numb. Sitting there though, holding her sleeping baby girl while Oliver caught her up on everyone’s lives, she _felt_ love, from her head to her toes, and her heart suddenly felt that specific rush of warmth, of happiness.

Later that night, she couldn’t sleep, thinking about how good it had felt to let that emotion take her over; how amazing that moment with her family was. “Oliver,” she started, her voice just a whisper so she wouldn’t wake Lydia. “I’m sorry for what happened…that day…” She was lying on her back, and a shiver ran down her spine as she remembered how cold she had felt lying there that day, before Oliver had warmed her up with his heated skin pressed to hers.

She saw him turn over to face her and she dropped her head to look at him. “You don’t ever have to apologize for that, Felicity. Do you hear me?”

She nodded swiftly, wiping a tear that had fallen as she looked back up at the ceiling briefly. When she looked back down at him, his eyes bore into hers. "I want to get better.“ She whispered.

For the first time, she felt like she had goals. As small as it might seem to someone else, she was desperate to hold on to the feeling she’d had while sitting in front of the fire. She wanted to sit on the living room floor with her family and feel peaceful and safe. She wanted dinners at Dig’s where their daughters played and became best friends. She wanted to see with her own eyes the beautiful bond between Lydia and Thea that Oliver raved about. She wanted to be as involved and excited about her life as Oliver had been while he spoke to her on the floor. He was so at peace, so happy to watch Lydia grow. And she wanted to be a part of it, not just a bystander who got the recap.

"You will.” He promised, raising his arm to wrap around her before he seemed to think better of it, lowering his arm back down to the bed. “You can take as much time as you need and you _will_ feel better.” His confidence in her was empowering. It was like he could read her mind when he said, “And you will be so happy to know your daughter, to see and love everything about her that makes her special. I believe in you, Felicity. And I’m not giving up.”

Felicity turned over on her side too, facing him. She smiled the best she could, trying to assure him that it was okay. Oliver was the most loving, patient man that she knew, but basically since Lydia had been born, he seemed like he was afraid to touch her, his own wife; like she might bite his head off if he tried.

She guessed that he had a reason to think that way, and now that she had opened herself up to her emotions, she felt sadness at his hesitation. She wanted to be touched by him. She didn’t want him to think that he couldn’t. She felt a wave of desire for his touch, she missed it. And she didn’t want to deny herself of her feelings anymore….or him, so she gave him the encouragement he needed. She reached for him, sliding across the bed and into his ready arms. Nestling her head into his chest as his arms encircled her into a protective embrace, she asked, “Will you help me?” her voice unsure.

Oliver nodded adamantly, relief flooding his mind and his body at that question. He knew that his girl was a fighter, and he had no doubt that she would come back from this, but he felt a lot of emotions when she asked that simple question, letting him know that she wanted him by her side while she dealt with it, helping and supporting her and fighting with her. "Always.“

* * *

"Thea, can you grab the chicken out of the oven?” Oliver asked. Thea left her spot with Lydia on the rug of the loft to join her brother in the kitchen.

The open floor plan didn’t offer privacy, but Thea couldn’t help but comment, “She’s doing a lot better.” She said it as quietly as she could, throwing glances at Felicity, who was in the middle of a very enthusiastic baby-talk conversation with Lydia.

Oliver nodded once, following his sister’s eyes to his wife, “She feels better every day. I _see_ it every day,” It’d been about four months since their conversation in bed, the one that ignited a fire inside of him, the one that made him sure that the Felicity he loved was still in her. And he vowed to himself and to her that he would never stop fighting for her, no matter how hard it got. And it had gotten very hard sometimes. It still was. There were some really exhausting days…but the good ones, especially that night, always reminded him that she was worth it. Their life together was worth it. He never even questioned that, even if she did try her very best on those rough days to push him away.

 He smiled to himself, watching a scene in the living room that he had been dreaming about since the day Felicity told him that she was pregnant. His beautiful wife playing with his beautiful daughter. "She’s been working so hard to get better. I couldn’t be any more proud of her.“ He shook his head slightly, turning his attention back to his veggie cutting before Felicity noticed them staring.

Thea smiled widely, "So am I.”

Oliver leaned over to kiss his sister’s head, “All right Speedy, let’s get this dinner ready before everyone gets here.” It was the first time that they’d all be together. It was the first time that Felicity would have to talk to anyone outside of him, Thea, Dig, or her mother. But she had asked for this dinner, with 'everyone I love in attendance. It’s time, Oliver.’ Oliver had actually kind of advised her against it, the worrier in him afraid that it would be too much, too soon. But Felicity had laughed at him, promising that after four months, she was ready and she really wanted it. She even made a joke about feeling like her friends would forget who she was if she didn’t show her face, which set him to ease a little bit. A little.

“Oliver!” Felicity’s scream caused him to drop the pitcher of water he’d been holding. As his head snapped up to look at her, he vaguely registered Thea catching the pitcher in one swift move with an irritated sigh.

When his eyes fell on Felicity and Lydia, he realized that it hadn’t been panic in her voice like he had thought, but excitement. Felicity stood by the window, one of Lydia’s teddy bears in her hand, while their daughter was wobbling near the couch; her hand darting back and forth between standing up on her own and using the couch for balance. Oliver quickly made his way to Felicity’s side, leaning over, he met his daughter’s eyes and she smiled, like she knew exactly what a big moment she was creating. “Come on, Lydia.” Oliver encouraged, kneeling down and opening his arms for her.

Lydia looked back and forth between them, and after another moment, Felicity joined him on the floor, waving the teddy bear that had caught Lydia’s attention and started this determination to walk in the first place. “Lydia, come see momma.” She cooed, but stole a glance at Oliver, still unsure about whether or not she was doing and saying the right things sometimes. She always just went with what felt natural, just like her therapist had said, and Oliver had never once told her that what she was doing was wrong, but she was still working through her emotions and actions during those first few weeks of having Lydia.

Oliver’s smile was so wide and proud. It instantly soothed Felicity’s insecurity, and her attention focused completely on Lydia. Oliver and Felicity both cheered her on, encouraging her until, with a tiny shriek and a giggle, Lydia let go of the couch and waved her arms as she clumsily barreled forward, right into Felicity’s arms. “Oh my god,” She breathed, her eyes wide and excited as they met Oliver’s. Oliver smiled, and the one that Felicity gave back was the happiest, most genuine smile he’d seen in months. “You did it!” Felicity said excitedly, lifting Lydia to her face and kissing her cheeks.

Lydia giggled as Oliver rubbed her back. Looking right into Felicity’s eyes, he said, “Yeah, you sure did.” The pride in his eyes rolled right off of him and she felt it.

She made a face at Lydia, “Well baby, looks like Dada has more than one girl in his life to be proud of.”

“Did she just-” Diggle’s voice from the doorway had all three of them look up at him. Lyla had a bright smile and a diaper bag on her shoulder while Dig held Sara. Lydia squealed and writhed for Diggle. “If I had walked in one minute earlier, I would have seen her take her first steps? I can’t believe I just missed that!”

“Oh,” Thea smiled as she sat on the counter in the kitchen, “Don’t worry. I have the whole thing on video.” She waved her phone at them.

Felicity had never felt more steady. Or more at home.


End file.
